


Edge of Memories

by Sonntam



Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Character Study, Curse of Strahd Spoilers, Gen, Missing Scene, Suicidal Thoughts, major Ireena plotline spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25184611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonntam/pseuds/Sonntam
Summary: Ireena is captured, but finds herself wondering when exactly she became imprisoned. Does a bird born in captivity have even the faintest hope of fleeing?All roads lead back to hell, but there is no other choice than to move forward.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Edge of Memories

There were things Ireena could not explain.

When she walked the labyrinthine corridors of Ravenloft, she knew where to go to reach the dining room. She knew where the mausoleum was, though no one showed her the way. The stone walls, the portraits, the painted glass windows were all familiar to her. Ireena felt a surge of joy at seeing a particular mosaic floor. It felt like it was a good place to dance. Like a fleeting shadow a vision flitted in front of her mind: a dance with her dark lover, thrill of excitement of doing something forbidden. She almost felt the reassuring, firm hold at her waist, the callused strong hands holding her own. Safety and love. How could she think that? What part of her conjured this sick fantasy?

Dancing with Vasiliy at the festival was nice. It was more than nice, actually. Ireena felt her heart open its petals, hoping for warmth, for rays of love. Apparently, even betrayal could not raze all remained warmth in her heart.

Yet even that would die in time. Ireena had to remember that.

Ireena visited in late evenings the balcony from which village Barovia could be seen. It entertained her for a while. Over there was the house where her brother worried himself sick over her. Over there was the cemetery where her father laid. Over there was the tavern with the barkeeper who was not the same since the assault of castle Ravenloft. Over there was the road by which she tried to flee.

Looking at the village from far above it felt like seeing Ireena's entire life laid out in front of her. Ireena saw clearly how futile all her efforts were, how her entire life she had been firmly grasped by Count Strahd.

Once, she turned around, no longer able to bear the despair of this knowledge, and saw Strahd, leaning on the doorframe. He was watching her, admiring her while she was unaware. It made Ireena’s skin crawl. It made her heart pause and then beat faster.

Ireena realized she wanted to stay. She wanted Strahd to walk up to her, embrace her and hold her while she sobbed. 

Her face must have looked like she saw a ghost. Ireena nodded, because she did not trust herself to speak and walked away with wooden steps. She tried not to make it look as if she was fleeing the lord of the castle.

What was happening to Ireena? Was she charmed? How else could she feel something like this, earn for comfort from the man who destroyed her life?

Ireena's revulsion at the feelings in her heart turned into blind, furious hate. It kept Ireena strong for a while. Magic was vicious and insidious. Yet it was not her, it was influence of outside sources. It was evil. This reminder helped.

Ireena explored the castle. Purposefully she mapped out the floors, memorizing rooms and possible escape routes. When she felt more optimistic, she imagined infiltration of the castle, following the route she mapped out. An assault with participants hidden in shadows so well, not even Strahd's magic could detect them.

Maybe there were secrets Ireena could uncover. She found a tower with no visible entrances. It seemed significant, even if Ireena could not make heads or tails out of it.

Ireena found a human girl by the name of Gertrude. She was as nocturnal as Ireena was herself. Yet if Ireena could not sleep at night in fear of those who walked the halls of the castle, Gertrude was pliant and happily obedient to rules of the castle. She saw herself as a princess in the tower, seemingly unaware that princesses in such towers are meant to be saved.

"Saved from what? Everyone is so friendly here and look how wonderful my room is."

Gertrude smiled at Ireena, like a child if asked whether they love their mother. The child always says yes, even when signs from beating show below the sleeves of the dress. What else can they say? What other hope do they have, than that the jail is a fortress and the price for safety is negligible, despite all the signs showing otherwise?

Ireena was in such a bad mood, she sought out Strahd herself and demanded for Gertrude to be freed.

"Gertrude is free to go, if she wishes so," Strahd leaned his head to the side and smiled. He looked like a satisfied cat after drinking all the fat milk from the cup and knowing the owner would not manage to land a blow even if they tried.

"You know damn well..." abruptly Ireena broke off her sentence. It made no sense to argue with Strahd. He was like a statue. He always made up his mind what would happen and how. You could yell and curse at him, plead and beg, but nothing but superficial details would change.

Ireena whirled around and left. As she stalked through the castle, vampires scurried away from her like cockroaches. This was their normal behavior. It used to reassure her in first days, but now she felt anxious, angry. Ireena deliberately started searching for vampires. It was more fun than she thought. While the brides and grooms stayed well out of her way, she found bits and pieces, hinting at their presence. Here a book was left behind in haste, there an unattended potion bubbled in a cauldron.

Lesser vampires had less luck evading Ireena. They guarded key points of the castle and answered her questions curtly and with great unwillingness. Useless, but Ireena was pleased with how they flinched when she moved. It was fun to imagine they feared her, instead of the wrath of their master.

On second night, Strahd demanded her presence for a dinner. They ate outside. It was windy night, yet where they sat it was warm, cozier than by a hearth. Stars twinkled overhead, wine flowed at the table. Quite literally: Ireena spilled some over herself, as she was in a hurry to down one glass over another.

Strahd was patient, regaling her with one story over another. It didn’t help: at some point Ireena realized, she heard this story before. In fact, she was certain, she told it. Yet it was about long dead people she never knew. What did this mean? What did he do to her?

They went for a walk. Strahd reached out to support her by the elbow, yet she struggled away from him. Later, she thought she even shoved him. His eyes were… unreadable, but she thought she saw some satisfaction. It was as if her fear and even her drunk behavior proved something. It pleased him. Ireena grimly hoped to puke on him.

As they entered the library, Ireena sobered up. A cold wave of terror washed over her. A portrait: of her.

"No," said Ireena, lightly swaying. She herself could not tell what she defied. Ireena would not be his doll, beautifying his library with her presence. If this was a gift, she did not want it.

A part of her feared something even worse. This was Ireena's own face looking at her, yet somehow it felt like so much more than that.

“I want to sleep,” Ireena said and it sounded petulant.

“As you wish,” said Strahd and offered her his hand.

Ireena refused and slept that night in a guest bedroom, without undressing.

In the morning she investigated. Her head ached, yet that was even a relief. It helped to mechanically go through motions. She entered the library, read the inscription of the portrait, chased down vampires to ask questions and interrogated the ghosts.

Was this why she delayed exploration of the library? Did she already know what she would find there and so put it as far out of her mind as possible?

At the end of that night, Ireena drank and cried herself to sleep. 

The betrayer was inside her. A ghost. An intruder. Or maybe she was the intruder, Ireena Kolyanovich? If she could leave, maybe Marina and Strahd could be happy. Yet Ireena did not want Strahd to be happy. It terrified Ireena that her choice may not matter. The more she remembered, the more Marina may come to forefront. Maybe someday Ireena would be just an afterthought.

Finally Ireena understood Strahd’s patience, his evaluating looks. He needed her to be Marina. He did not care how long it took and how much Ireena suffered in the process. If Marina came back, it all would be worth it.

Ireena was but a larva, skin to be shed as Marina spread her wings.

In the middle of the day Ireena woke up in terror and searched her whole room for something sharp. She did not find anything, except for a hairpin. Ireena stared at it for a long time, yet it was so small. Could she cut her throat with that? Could she cut her wrists? Mindlessly, Ireena pricked her skin with the pin until she grew exhausted. She fell into bed and slept fitfully.

Ireena dreamt of being locked in her own childhood bedroom. By dawn she would be executed. In her dream she was very calm, for she knew she would be rescued. Yet dawn came and she was dragged out to the town centre. She looked around, but her saviour was nowhere in sight. Stiffly, slowly, unwillingly she went up the scaffold. A rope was placed around her neck. The crowd stared at her, malevolent, vicious, afraid. Witch, they called her. And then she dropped.

Ireena woke up, unable to breathe and rolled over in her bed, trying to get air in her lungs. She wheezed for a minute, barely getting enough air with each breath. Then she trembled and tears welled up in her eyes. Ireena brushed them away, but more came.

Marina was not betrayed, but she died nonetheless. Ireena had even less protection.

Eventually, Ireena crawled out of the bed, went over to her desk and pulled out the letters from her… friends? They surely were not just mercenaries anymore. For such a short time they knew each other it would be more proper to call them acquaintances. That did not feel right either, for they did far more for her than anyone outside her family. Strange, but she found friends in such a dire time.

Wisely, they offered no promises to save her. They would not be able to do that. Ireena smoothed out the letters with her hand and placed them back into the drawer. There was only one person who could save her and that was her alone. This thought filled her heart with despair and comfort. She saw now clearly the depth of the abyss she was plunged into. There was no coming back from this, there was to salvation.

Ireena refused to die, now that she was awake and not in panic. It would still be nice to have the option to do so. If she noticed she was losing herself, she would like to have the option of spiteful revenge. Ismark would suicidally attack Strahd, but so be it. He would do the same if she became a vampire.

During the night, as Ireena wandered lost through the corridors, she imagined Marina so vibrantly. Laughing loudly as she walked the halls of the castle she considered her own, playing with Strahd’s hair as they laid embraced in bed. Joyfully teasing Strahd, making fun of him right to his face and racing him over the grounds on her own horse. Defying him in most loving way.

Ireena’s heart hurt at the happiness which was denied to Ireena, yet was so abundant for Marina. Marina died, yet she got the better deal out of them two. Ireena never was happy, not like that. She was always on the bud of happiness, content as a child, but always wishing for more. She used to look forward to the future and now she felt nothing but dread for it.

Her life was a maze with no exit. The hunter always found her and all hope was vain. What could she do but run?

Ireena could do nothing but become a bone in Strahd's throat. Rather than to make Strahd happy, she would rather suffer all her life. No happiness, not for her, nor for him.

What a pathetiс way to find comfort, in her own suffering. Even worse, Ireena felt sympathy for Strahd, for his loneliness and his pain. If Ireena could still laugh at this, she would have done so.

Ireena stopped by the portrait of Strahd himself and imagined him dying, his handsome face contorted in fear and in pain. This idea prickled her with sympathetic pain, but even as Marina’s heart trembled, Ireena’s heart soared.


End file.
